


Windows

by greenwillow



Series: Top of the Class [9]
Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Aethelflaed is not great at breakups you guys, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assorted background ships and characters, F/M, Gen, Teacher-Student Relationship, an escalating series of poor alcohol fueled decisions, at least in this case, but no she's fine she's FINE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29715966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenwillow/pseuds/greenwillow
Summary: After ending things with Aldhelm, Aethelflaed goes to a house party at Uhtred's.
Relationships: Aethelflaed Lady of Mercia/Aldhelm (The Last Kingdom)
Series: Top of the Class [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048940
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	Windows

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo...sorry about the prolonged cliffhanger, since we're back in Aethelflaed's POV here we will have to wait a bit longer to see what's up with Aldhelm. I'm still using the Aethelflaed/Aldhelm relationship tag since that's the focus of the series, but they are broken up at this point so if you don't want to read this bit no worries. I can sum up what you missed in the author's notes of the installment. 
> 
> There is more (mostly) gentle roasting of the Coccham Squad here, and some assorted background dynamics that I hope you enjoy. Keep in mind that the views reflected here are this version of Aethelflaed's and not necessarily my own lol (happy to elaborate on that in the comments, as always).

She’s sitting on a bench near the ocean. The air is warm and salty, and the sky is a deep bright blue, and Aldhelm is beside her. Or, she thinks it’s Aldhelm. For some reason, he doesn’t quite look like himself, and she can’t seem to look directly at him. She begins to feel a little nervous as if there’s something she ought to know but doesn’t. Looking up she sees a storm gathering, dark heavy clouds rolling in overhead, and she reaches for his hand, but suddenly he’s far away, the expanse of the bench between them seems miles long. She tries to call out, to ask what’s happening, as if someone would answer (who?) but she can’t seem to find her voice. It’s just when the first drops of rain begin to fall that she wakes up with a start.

The dream floats at the top of her mind, bobbing like a bit of driftwood, as Aethelflaed pulls her silk eye mask off to see the time—3:13 AM. She frowns and settles back into bed. She’s going to have to switch to a new sleeping pill.

* * *

Aldhelm isn’t in class on Monday, but given it’s Pyrlig’s lecture day that’s not terribly odd. But when he doesn't show up on Wednesday Aethelflaed grows almost worried. She hasn't seen him around campus at all, which has been a relief of a kind, but she begins to wonder if something is wrong. Perhaps he’s sick—or perhaps he’s just avoiding her.

But he's there Friday, for one of the last lectures of the term, and that’s worse than his absence in a way she doesn’t expect. He’s wearing one of his old suits, and it feels like something she’s meant to notice.

Aldhelm avoids her eye during the lecture at first, but then midway through his strategy seems to shift. He looks towards her area of the classroom as often as he does towards the others, and it’s as if nothing had ever happened between them.

It was better to have been ignored.

He doesn’t linger after class but packs up his things quickly and disappears. She catches a glimpse of him vanishing over the quad from one of the classroom windows. He doesn’t have a scarf, so his collar's pulled up around his ears. She snaps her attention back to the classroom. Aethelred, wearing his signature smirk, catches her eye (what the hell did he have to be so happy about?) and Aethelflaed thinks she should message Erik to remind herself that not every single one of her university relationships had been a complete disaster. She needs some type of distraction, anyway. She feels an unpleasant mood settling in.

She’s on her way home and considering texting Erik a cute selfie (did she have one that would work? or would she have to take a new one?) when she hears someone calling her name. She turns to find Uhtred jogging towards her, no books or academic accoutrement of any kind in sight.

“Where are you coming from? It’s not like you to be on campus this late on a Friday.”

“Just said goodbye to Gisela,” he replies with an easy smile, “I’m cutting across campus on my way home. Where are you off to?”

If he notices her foul mood, he’s intuitive enough not to comment on it.

“Gisela’s heading home already?” Aethelflaed asks, ignoring his question.

“Just for the weekend,” he says, diverting his path to fall into step beside her. “I expect you will be attending our last big party of the year, will you not?”

It’s a challenge. He will force her to say no or rib her if she tries to get out of saying yes. So she shocks him, and perhaps herself, by agreeing.

“Of course,” she replies, voice full of manufactured enthusiasm, “I’m just going to go home and change first.”

“What you’re wearing now is fine,” Uhtred says, eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. It’s an attempt to secure the slot on her social calendar, but it doesn’t hurt for her to feel noticed.

“If you’re so worried I’ll back out you’re free to escort me.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Oh? You won’t be bringing a date?”

“Do I need to? Is this going to be a black-tie event or something?”

“Not this time,” Uhtred laughs. “What about your friend though? Aldhelm? He said he was going to come too.”

“I think he has plans tonight,” Aethelflaed replies vaguely, wishing Uhtred hadn't remembered.

“Well, then I would be honored to be your escort.”

She rewards him with a smile—it’s not genuine, but perhaps if she acts like she’s in a better mood the reality will follow.

They walk back to her place and he makes himself at home while she changes, and it’s sort of nice to have another person around again, even if it’s only Uhtred. She hears him flip the television on when she excuses herself to get ready, so she doesn’t feel pressured to rush. He’s never been responsible for party prep at the Burg anyway.

Aethelflaed touches up her makeup first, adding a heavier liner above her lashes and smudging out her eyeshadow. Then she lingers by the closet for a minute, deciding what to wear. There's a particular cardigan that reminds her of Aldhelm and she flips by it hurriedly. Perhaps she should get rid of it, she’s not sure the color suits her well anyway. She feels her irritation rising again—she’s tired of being reminded of him. She’s determined to put him out of her mind tonight. It should be easy enough—she certainly can’t picture him at one of Uhtred’s parties.

She’s nearly settled on one of her favorite black jumpsuits when she remembers an outfit she hasn’t worn yet and decides to christen it tonight. It’s a deep green knit dress with a high neckline and long sleeves, but it hugs her curves perfectly—honestly, it’s a bit fancy for a university party but if she pairs it with flat over-the-knee boots instead of pumps she’ll be an appropriate amount overdressed. She does her hair last, adding a bit of volume and curl but leaving it down.

Uhtred’s reaction when she rejoins him doesn’t disappoint.

“Well, if I had known you were going to change into that,” he says, eyebrows raised, a smile spreading over his face.

He’s flirting, but he always flirts, and it doesn’t need to feel any different just because Gisela won’t be there tonight.

“You’re going to be early if you walk back with me now,” he says as she moves her essentials (a credit card, two condoms, and her keys) into the small cross-body bag that works with the outfit.

“I know,” she says casually, catching his eye in the entryway mirror as she applies her lipstick. “I’ve been busy all term, consider this me catching up for lost time with you all.”

He shrugs, not displeased, and they make their way to the Burg.

The house is hardly a flurry of activity despite the fact that guests will be sure to start arriving in a little over an hour. Finan and Sihtric are seated in the main room on different sofas, drinking beer in silence…well, relative silence, Finan is blasting some awful grating thumping music from his phone. It’s not overly loud, but the sound quality is terrible and it reminds Aethelflaed of an uncomfortable party she’d been to first year when a guy named Haeston had hit on her relentlessly.

“Aethelflaed! Are we so honored on this day?”

She rolls her eyes at Finan and slips down onto the sofa beside Sihtric. Uhtred sits on the other side of her and throws an arm over the back. He’s sitting a bit closer than he probably notices.

“Beer?” Sihtric asks Aethelflaed, still staring off into space.

“Sure,” she replies, and he hands her a can from the cooler at his feet then kicks the cooler down to Uhtred, who grabs a can for himself.

“Anyway, like I was sayin’, this girl and I were talking all night at the pub—I mean, hours, _hours_ —and I really thought we had a thing goin', and she left with her friends, anyway.”

“Why do you keep sharing your failures so voluntarily, Finan?” Uhtred asks, shaking his head.

“Maybe Aethelflaed has some advice for you,” Osferth says, appearing in the door to the dining room holding a large box of years’ worth of assorted party decor. “Hi, Aethelflaed.”

Aethelflaed waves to him and the red-headed girl who’s peering in over his shoulder.

“I’m Eadith,” the girl says.

“Aethelflaed.”

“Eadith, Aethelflaed, can you tell Finan what he’s doing wrong? He won’t listen to me,” Sihtric says with the manner of a grade school teacher who’s dead inside.

Eadith walks into the room and perches on the side of the sofa where Finan is sitting. She's dressed in an oversized mustard-colored sweater over a miniskirt and boots, and her long auburn hair is braided into two plaits. She’s cute, in a sort of unexpected way, with strong brows and a pretty mouth. She’s probably an art student, or maybe humanities.

“What’s the problem, then?” Eadith asks.

“Finan thinks he’s being charming when he’s just being needy,” Aethelflaed says, tapping one of her perfectly manicured nails against the side of her beer.

“Needy?” Finan grips his chest like he’s been shot.

“Maybe we start with this,” Eadith says with a grimace, reaching for Finan’s phone where it lays on the coffee table and gingerly turning his music off. Sihtric laughs.

“Can I do nothin’ right?” Finan asks, turning to Eadith with a pleading look.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right girl yet,” Eadith suggests with a shrug.

“How am I to know when I have?” Finan asks, leaning towards her and stroking his beard in faux contemplation. “Will she perhaps be wearin’ yellow?”

“Probably not,” Osferth says, appearing at Eadith’s side. She smiles up at him, and Aethelflaed realizes they’re sort of together. It’s nice to see Osferth happy, despite the tight feeling that suddenly seizes her chest. She takes another sip of beer.

Finan realizes it too and sinks back into the sofa. Eadith begins to help Osferth untangle a bundle of twinkle lights, and with a sigh, Sihtric rises to his feet to begin setting up the bar.

* * *

Before long the house is full of partiers. Aethelflaed recognizes a few of them from around campus or from the days when she used to visit the house more often, but most of them seem to have surfaced from the sports centre or the basement labs of the science buildings. She’s had a few drinks by now and is actually enjoying herself. Refreshing end-of-semester energy abounds and Sihtric’s playlist fits the general mood. It’s a good party.

She notices a small stain on the front of her dress—perhaps from when that tall guy with the wild hair had bumped into her—and makes her way through the kitchen in search of a towel. She finds one by the sink where Brida, one of Uhtred’s exes, is sitting on the kitchen counter. Brida nods in recognition and Aethelflaed nods back. It’s too loud to say much, not that either of them wants that, and besides there’s a goth girl with long blonde hair and a lip ring standing between Brida’s legs. It’s a weirdly intimate moment, and Aethelflaed makes her exit quickly.

“Aethelflaed!”

It’s Professor Odda’s son—she cannot for the life of her remember his first name—and he seems fully intent on cornering her in what would no doubt be an extremely dull conversation. She smiles politely, then catches Sihtric’s eye across the room—he’s finally given up on keeping the aux cord away from Aethelwold—and darts away from young Odda as she makes a beeline for Sihtric.

“Where on earth is the vodka?”

Sihtric raises an eyebrow, and gestures to the table behind him. Aethelflaed wrinkles her nose at the selection.

“I’ll make you something,” he says, turning to dip a cup into the ice bin on the table, adding a few liquors and filling the cup halfway with a mysterious mixer.

“Thanks,” she says, taking a drink. “Anywhere, where’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s coming in a bit,” Sihtric says, unbothered. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

She knows he means Aldhelm, and she honestly wouldn’t mind that he knew if they hadn’t ended things.

She doesn’t reply, just takes a long sip of her drink.

“Ahhh.” Sihtric grimaces, pulling apologetically at one of his earrings. “Sorry. Refill?”

She nods, and he makes her another of the same.

There’s a bit more alcohol in those cocktails than she notices at first, and her head begins to spin a little by the time Sihtric’s girlfriend arrives—she does indeed exist, and he seems very much in love with her, and that is hard to watch.

She doesn’t know what time it is when Finan appears next to her with a beer, and she downs it in a few sips. She doesn’t know why, but she’s apparently determined to get drunk, really drunk, and there’s no point in stopping herself now.

But then “I Wanna Be Yours” by Arctic Monkeys comes on—this can’t still be Aethelwold’s playlist—and she thinks of the time Aldhelm jokingly offered to slow dance with her in her living room (she had not so kindly insisted he must be a bad dancer) and something twists inside her and she wants to scream.

She just needs some fresh air. She pushes through the crowd and makes her way outside. The door closes behind her, dulling the music considerably, and the cold December air calms the flush on her cheeks. Aethelflaed takes a few deep breaths and scans the yard to make sure she’s alone. Then she lets out a sob. Just one. The tight feeling in her chest diminishes, and she can breathe again.

“Aethelflaed?”

She turns to find Uhtred standing behind her, and that’s when she loses control.

Her face must have looked strained and sad because he immediately drops his cigarette and pulls her into a hug. That breaks the resolve she had left to keep strong.

She’s crying, painful sobs welling up from deep in her chest, and he’s stroking her hair. It’s half comforting, half mortifying.

“It’s alright, it’s alright—“

“No, it’s not!” she weeps, gripping his shirt with one hand as she wipes away her tears clumsily. She’s already ruined her makeup but she can try to salvage it.

“What happened?” he says in a soft voice, holding her chin to tilt her face up towards him. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”

She laughs, a sniffly noise. “Mine, I guess. I’ve been an idiot.”

“Never,” he says, and runs a thumb over her cheek. The intimacy of the gesture and the amount of liquor in her system combine to create an impulse that she doesn’t regret as soon as she ought.

His eyes are locked on hers, and she rises to kiss him. He hesitates at first, then gives in, kissing her back as they stumble together towards the back wall of the house where he can anchor an hand as he looks down over her.

He’s the one who stops it. That’s the worst part. It’s not her, and it’s not someone interrupting them. It’s Uhtred.

She feels the bile rise up in her throat before her eyes fix on him again and she’s pitching herself toward the other side of the porch so she can vomit into the bushes. His hands are still on her waist, and that’s what keeps her from sliding on a patch of ice.

“Fuck, Aethelflaed…are you ok?”

Eadith and Osferth have joined them outside, both looking at her with wide concerned eyes.

“You should drink some water,” Eadith says. “Osferth?”

Osferth has already darted inside, returning a moment later with a glass of room temperature water. Aethelflaed drains half of it a single gulp despite Uhtred’s advice she should slow down. Eadith helps steady the glass in her shaky hands when she takes a breath, wrapping her fingers around Aethelflaed’s own.

The burn in her throat has subsided, and her stomach no longer feels queasy. She probably should have had something to eat after 2:00 PM, and not had quite so much to drink. She should have done a lot of things differently this day.

Uhtred’s eyes are concerned with they meet hers, a little ashamed as well, and there’s judgement beneath that.

 _Uhtred_ is judging her. It’s unbearable.

She straightens up, fixing an easy smile on her face.

“I’m fine. I’ll be ok.”

Eadith places an arm on her back. “Alright, let’s go get you fixed up.”

It’s a kind offer, the sort of offer that ought to make Aethelflaed feel warm things about universal sisterhood, but instead, it makes her insides crawl. She hates being on the receiving end of this kind of exchange, and she’s rarely on the other side either. But she can’t object, and she needs to get away from Uhtred with his self-pitying regret and Osferth with his soft sympathy, so she lets Eadith help her inside. When they reach the first-floor bathroom she asks for a moment, and Eadith agrees to wait outside.

The bathroom is moderately clean, even after the house had been full of partiers for hours. Still, Aethelflaed moves gingerly as she splashes a bit of water on her face, fixes the places her mascara has run, and reapplies her lipstick. By some stroke of luck, she finds a bottle of mouthwash in the cabinet behind the mirror and washes the taste of bile from her throat.

“Aethelflaed? Are you alright in there?” Eadith calls from the other side of the door.

“Fine, thanks,” Aethelflaed replies, staring at her reflection in the mirror. What a disaster of a night. She’s certainly behaved better. She’s certainly looked better. There’s a stray bit of eye makeup on her cheek and she rubs it away with the back of her hand.

It’s an improvement. She looks more like herself if she doesn’t yet feel it.

“Do you need another glass of water?” Eadith calls.

“Sure…I’ll be out in a minute,” Aethelflaed replies.

She hears footsteps receding and then begins to unlock the window. It takes some effort, the old paint causes the frame to stick to the sill. She worries it will be too loud but then it finally comes apart and luckily there’s no screen in her way. She has her purse, not her coat, but she won’t go back for it.

Hoisting her hips onto the sill, she manages to slide one leg over before even looking down to see how far she’ll fall. It’s less than five feet, from what she can tell—worth the effort of escaping from a house full of people who will fawn over her.

It hurts a bit more than she anticipates when she hits the ground, she seems to have jarred her left knee a bit. But she's free now, and it’s not a long walk to her destination.

The liquor’s faded a bit, and she walks faster to keep warm. Her hands feel cold and chapped so she holds them in her armpits to keep from shivering.

The door of the building, by some good luck, is propped open with a brick. Not terribly safe, but she takes it as a good omen. She finds his name on the panel outside and makes her way up to unit 3F. She doesn’t buzz ahead.

When she reaches his door, he doesn't answer. She wonders if she’d remembered the apartment wrong—she’s still a little drunk, it’s possible. Or maybe he’s not there. He might be with his mom. Or out with friends—he has friends, right? He must. For some reason, she pictures him in the library, head bent over a pile of books, but that’s ridiculous, the library has been closed for hours and even Aldhelm must have better things to do on a Friday night at the end of term.

She knocks again and waits for a few more minutes, and then self-loathing overwhelms her—what the fuck is she doing there?—and she takes a deep breath and begins to cry again. She can’t help it, but luckily it only lasts a minute, and she wipes the tears away again and determines that once she catches her breath she’ll walk home, take a hot shower then go straight to bed.

That’s when she hears footsteps at the end of the hall.

She feels sick again, but she steels herself to look. He’s standing with his keys out a few paces away. He’s wearing an overcoat and scarf, he’s been out. On a date, maybe, she thinks. He looks nice.

“Aethelflaed?”

He’s looking at her and the only thing she sees on his face is exhaustion. That makes her chest ache. Why had she come?

“I should go,” she says, and tries to pass by him, but then they both hear a commotion in the stairwell.

“My neighbors,” he says, and swiftly placing his key in the lock turns the knob and pulls her inside with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I know, we have established that I'm the worst. Hopefully I will have the next bit up soon! 
> 
> Aethelflaed/Uhtred is sort of a Notp of mine, so sorry if you like them and also sorry if you don’t—hopefully I haven’t put anyone off too badly. 
> 
> If you want to reblog the photoset and playlist you can do so [here.](https://aadmelioraa.tumblr.com/post/644194389574500352/aadmelioraa-modern-au-college-au)


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